


I'm Tired.

by IggysNewRecipe



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Doesn't have actually written rape, Hurt with no Comfort, I Do, I hate this and myself, Sadness, You ever listen to something really happy and write hurt with no comfort, and i know i should, i feel bad, just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 03:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggysNewRecipe/pseuds/IggysNewRecipe
Summary: Ignis gets visited by his attacker he had when he was but a child. He just wants sleep.
Relationships: Implied Ignis Scientia/Gladiolus Amicitia - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	I'm Tired.

**Author's Note:**

> There's not really rape written in this; another vent!! ;))

It felt like ages since this last happened, like it was only a blur of visions when he thought about it. To be fair; it had been a long time since it last happened, fourteen years ago to be exact. Ignis knew who it was, the man seemed to have never changed as he'd thrusted hard into Ignis. Ignis' mind was swimming as he now, was setting down by the toilet, waiting for his bile to decide when it wanted to leave his body.  
He was nauseously awaiting it, blind eyes burning with tears that threatened to fall. It felt like an eternity before it finally happened, and he retched into the porcelain bowl, gripping the sides of it tightly, burning acidic bile being the only thing to come out.

Ignis plopped down on the floor, releasing the sides of the bowl as he panted, tears burning down his cheeks as he sat on the floor, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. His teeth were going to need some serious cleaning once he was done with this fit of retching. It felt like forever when he was finally finished with the fit, standing to flush and walk to the sink to clean his mouth, he felt wobbly and uncoordinated. He throat burned and felt sore from all of the retching and sobbing he did while in the alleyway, and now in his shared apartment's bathroom.  
It was times like these he was satisfied with being unable to see. Satisfied he couldn't see his pathetic form in the mirror staring back at him as he cleaned his mouth of bile and saliva, wiped his foamed-over eyes with his hands to clean the tears out. Ignis felt his throat close up as another sob found itself there, trying to force itself out.  
He allowed it out, listening to the scratchy noises he made as he cried over the sink, his face in his hands. He began remembering what it was like when this happened last time, and realized that he still had those same precautions as he did now.

He wouldn't eat when he was out and about, choosing instead to have a meal nearing when he'd sleep so he wouldn't have to worry about it coming up and out when something like this would happen to him. Why was this happening to him? Ignis slid his hands down from his face to his neck, pushing under his collar to feel the large bitemark that was inflicted seemingly just moments before. He swallowed hard, trying to push the lump out of his throat and he pulled his hand away.

He was shaking.

Ignis Stupeo Scientia, soon to be Ignis Stupeo-Scientia Amicitia, the King's hand, had been broken.

Again.

How pathetic.

Ignis felt his knees give out, and he fell down on the cold tile floor. Ignis wrapped his arms around himself, wanting some type of comfort at this moment, yet hating how he was demanding such a thing. Regis must be embarrassed to see his son's advisor that he handpicked succumbing to such a thing. Ignis had already been attacked in this way before, hell he'd been accustom to it ever since the age of ten. So why now was he breaking down and sobbing like he did when it first happened?  
The only logical answer to that had to be that it had been so long since it last happened, and yet he still remembered it vividly. It was fresh in his mind, and it almost lined up with the events that had transpired today with him and that man. Ignis could only imagine what he looked like right now to the others, but the most prominent thing was pathetic.  
Pressed against the front of the sink's small doors, hugging himself and sobbing, wrists and hips beginning to bruise, neck and thighs covered in bite marks that forced themselves there. It almost felt unreal, truly, from how many times he'd experienced this in his life. He remembered a time when he was younger when he didn't cry during, didn't struggle, and just accepted what was happening. Back then it hurt worse than it did for him now due to his much smaller size, but now at his age of twenty-eight, it made him feel like how he did then, fourteen years ago when he was first penetrated in such a way.

He was disgusted by his own body, like it no longer was his anymore, as if someone claimed it, branded it, and made it theirs.

This wasn't Ignis' body anymore.

It never was.

At this point Ignis didn't want to shower like he planned, he didn't want to eat like he body demanded, he didn't want to give himself water like he needed to.  
He just wanted to lie down in his soft, comfortable bed, and sleep. When he was asleep he didn't have to worry about life.

He didn't have to worry about being alive.

He could do just that.

He could sleep.

But comfort in such a thing never lasted.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my twitter @iggysnewrecipe
> 
> it's where i go to cry


End file.
